Apocrypha
by Mieru-chan
Summary: It seemed fate had it's enigmatic way of working things; now, it's just a game on how long it'll let you live.
1. Dear Destiny

**A/N:**

Disclaimer: **I dun anything/anyone from Final Fantasy VII.**  
All I own is this cruddy CYOA storyline. D:

My very first attempt at a CYOA...  
Uhm, R&R pwease?

If you do, I'll post the next two chapter thingys. :3

* * *

**Apocrypha → Dear Destiny**

A blink of an eye;

The midnightly scenery of a black abyss;

_Can you open your eyes?_

A breathy sigh proved the serenity of a dreamless sleep.

* * *

You let out a weak cough as you opened your eyes. Your blurry, wandering gaze proved inadequate for observing your surroundings. You blinked and your vision cleared a bit.

Judging by the wintriness of what you were laying you made a mental note that you were definitely not in your bed.

You then twitched a finger. The corners of your lips rose upwards a bit, pleased to know that you haven't lost all control. Pushing yourself up, your hands examined the rough flooring; coming to the conclusion it was wood, very cold wood.

Looking upwards you blinked into the murky sunlight, tainted by the dust and three grimy, Victorian windows. You know noticed the intricate designs were made simple, the thin black bars swirling here and there on the obscure glass.

Following the windows to the ceiling, you noticed small yellow-brownish spots that seemed to have dripped from the ceiling. Rust maybe? You couldn't tell what the white wall was made out of…

You cringed in disgust at them, eyeing that they obviously have not been taken well care of.

You backed up a bit from your sitting position, hands supporting from your back almost slipping off of your floor. Turning sharply behind you, you examined aged, chestnut wooden stairs; stopping about five steps down to a small plane, then starting again from the side all the way down to what seemed like the first floor. Small, yellow, covered lamps that stuck out from the wall at the end of the staircase, you noted, were not lit.

From above the lighting sources on parallel stained-ivory walls were large pictures framed by gold-colored outlines, two on both sides. You were not able to make out any of the pictures though; all of them were damaged or blurred by whatever reason to be observed lucidly. Further up from the pictures to the ceiling was a large chandelier, holding about two, black, iron rings, one in which only consisting of five round lightings; it too was in need of cleaning.

You stood to your feet, wiping the dust off the back of your legs. You stretched your arms in the air while you continued your observations.

Back below the stairs, crossing a large carpet across the main floor were three doors, all evenly spaced out. Two open doorframes, decorated with a simple pale-yellow curtain in front of the entrance, on opposite ends were angles inwards, each seeming to contain a small room; one with a wooden table with various things on it, the other with a couple of wooden barrels and what seemed like a chest.

Exhaling, you relaxed your arms at your sides.

Looking at the large dark-yellow carpet again, your eyes followed the lighter shade of yellow and black round figure in the center, going outwards in a circle then in four different directions, each end of the design pointing in a certain way. In a sense, it looked like a compass; you suppose the direction one point was facing you was 'north'.

You looked at the south end at the middle door, the largest one, the one that was probably the main entrance.

Your feet, still a bit cold, did not move. Your hands were much colder though, almost on the verge of feeling warm. You cupped them together and brought them to your lips; you breathed in long, heated breaths to get them warm.

You looked directly to your left; your eyes met with another grubby white wall, but you could faintly see two openings on perpendicular to it.

Looking directly to your right you saw another small flight of stairs, the top leading to an empty room containing many green plants and a gold chest. Vertical from before it were two other doors, one closed, and one open.

Your feet felt ready to move.

* * *

_So which way will you go?_

_**Left**__ or __**right**?_

_If you choose left, go to: Laughing in the Dark_

_If you choose right, go to: Veiled Clandestine_


	2. Laughing in the Dark

**AN:** Gawd. It's already August 12. :o  
Apologies for the late updates.

* * *

**Apocrypha → Laughing in the Dark**

Turning, you made your way to the left of the hallway, your hand sliding along the railing while collecting dust at your fingertips.

You reached the T-intersection in a matter of seconds and examined a small hallway, no farther than three yards long; to the left of you, at the end was a creamed-colored curtained window, and to the right of it was an open door; you could tell from an old plaid mat that led into it. To the right of where you stood was a door leading directly into a new room, a small one from the size. A little bit more into the room was another open door.

The left side seemed more interesting, so onwards you walked in that direction first.

Your footsteps, pressing against the creaky wood, resonated softly throughout the mansion as you neared the end of the tight passageway. Suddenly, you felt an old, almost unnoticeable dent in the ground; the tip of your toes pressing into it was what made you detect it. Looking down at your feet you noticed small engravings in the timber. Curious, you bent down to closer inspect it.

"Something's written on the floor," You muttered incoherently.

**Right 59**

You raised an eyebrow at the carved in words and numbers: what did they mean? It almost sounded like something for a safe or a lock… Running a hand over it, feeling the rough wood, you shook your head in disapproval and continued down the hallway.

Turning past the window into a new room, you stepped across the mat onto parquet flooring.

The room was a bit oddly shaped; it was a square nonetheless, but the corner transverse from you was morphed by a grey brick wall, making it into a well-rounded curve that almost looked like it was made for a fireplace. There were three windows, all dressed with the same curtain outside the door; two on the ivory wall to the left of you, the other next to the brick warped wall. In front of you were two red velvet chairs with a stand in-between them, an old, bronze, first-century phone placed on top of it, obviously not used. In the corner next to the chair farthest from you, was an old desk, riddled with papers and various things that supplied writing utensils and such. The rest of the room was scattered with old, unopened boxes; a few rolled-up, yellow colored paper were inserted in an open crate.

The two lamps, alike from the ones downstairs, were not lit on as well.

One object stood out though, a burnished, golden box placed near a corner; you noticed that it looked similar to the one you saw in the hallway, in a room with plants. You walked over to it and bent down on your knees, your hands pressing against the cold cover, anticipation rising inside of you.

You opened the lid upwards with ease.

Inside was a crystalline shape bottle, steel-blue colored liquid swished around inside of it as you picked it up. You held the container with one hand as you brought it closer to your face to examine it. In small, imprinted words were:

**Magic Source**

"A… magic source?" You placed it in one of your pockets, just in case you needed it.

You stood and left the room, not bothering to shut the shimmering box, tracing your footsteps back to the intersection, and into the other room.

Your feet brushed over another plaid mat as you stepped into wooden flooring. Not much was in this rectangular room; on the wall to your left you, placed on stained white walls, was a picture of some sort; a person maybe? You didn't spend time to examine it. On the wall to your right were two small bookshelves, making its way across the corner to where the other open door met it. The only books you could see from the shelves were all with deep royal blue bindings and golden print on the sides that were too worn out to be read.

If you hadn't seen your shadow stretch out behind you, you wouldn't have noticed the window hidden behind the door—your eyes widened in response to your late discovery.

You concluded that nothing was important here, and walked into the next room.

Feet once again touched parquet flooring as you stood near a once luxurious, red velveteen chair that laid against the wall to your right, which still remained a pallid white with a few stains here and there from years of existence. In front of you and beside the chair was a single person bed, covered in a very dusty comforter and pillow with color alike to the chair; the sheets were white underneath and were contaminated with dust as well. Dull light from two, curtained covered windows illuminated as much as it could through the murky atmosphere as miniscule specks of dirt sparkled in mid-air.

It kind of grossed you out as soon as you realized that _you_ were breathing that same air.

To you left you found more bookshelves placed to fit the corner, and a lonely chair that almost seemed as if it was waiting for someone to sit on it.

Just as you predicted, the gray, brick wall crossed over to this side as well, changing the shape of the wall into one-fourth of a circle that stuck out, but unlike in the other room, this one had a wooden doorframe put into it.

A door?

A closet?

A small room?

You guessed at the possibilities that could be behind the slab door... But why would one put it as _brick_?

A puzzling question.

Staring at the room a little bit longer, you felt an eerie sensation that made your heart run faster, as if you were no longer the only one here.

With legs taking large strides, you quickly walked over to the bricked wall, your hands tracing the wooden doorframe, looking for a way to open the indented slab wall. You accidentally hit the fragile chair next to you, making it tumble to the floor as you tried to open the wall as it was.

Regaining your balance, your hands slid over the rough rock, you found a small opening in where your fingers were able to fit in. Your hands, gripping hard on multiple small slabs, pulled with much effort to move the wall. Finally it gave in, the rock making a rough opening sound as it scratched against the wooden flooring; you continued to pull on it, using all your strength to open it completely.

As it slid all the way to the side, you stopped and stared in the grand space before you. Behind all of this was a completely different part of the mansion, something that was definitely beyond your predictions. Old, rickety, wooden stairs spiraled downwards for a good fifty feet, reaching what looked like soil at the bottom. The inside of the small circulated walls were tinted with a small purple from the light shining in; it was obvious that no one has been here for a while.

Fascination does wonders for the brain, the whole new space reminding you of a well that never ended.

_Go to: Crooked Descension_


End file.
